


Our Pretty Little Snow Angels One-Shots

by MirkatManor



Series: Our Pretty Little Snow Angels [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:44:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirkatManor/pseuds/MirkatManor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots in the "Our Pretty Little Snow Angels" verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hey, Baby, I Think I Wanna Marry You

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue? I don't know.
> 
> Alright, I got requested to write up a certain scene in this verse, so it's happening. If you'd be interested in seeing anything else specifically in this 'verse, just let me know via message or comment! 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. I'm sorry about the Bruno-Mars-song-title. That song kinda has a special place in my heart, so boom goes the dynamite.

Goddamn he was nervous.

And not the same nervousness that he was used to, mind you, not the same one that seemed to always follow him around, but excitement.

Well, excitement paralleled by terror.

He didn't know why, really. He knew he wouldn't be rejected. Of course he wouldn't.

They loved each other.

So why was the ring box burning a hole in his pocket?

Dean walked around their small Boston apartment, glaring at inanimate objects as if they'd personally wronged him. They'd moved here after college. Each of them took a year off from school to work and save up some money, both for their education, Sam's, and just to keep the house afloat. After Dean received his mechanical engineering degree from a local community college, he started working full time at a garage about ten minutes from their house. 

Dean always came home disgusting, and would immediately hop into the shower.

That, however, did not mean he was showering alone. 

They moved to Massachusetts when they were each twenty two. Sam got into Stanford on a full ride, and Gabriel and his girlfriend, Kali, moved in together.

They were scattered, but that didn't make them any less of a family.

Moving so far away from both Sam and Gabriel was difficult, but Cas had always harbored a certain interest in the east coast, and he'd always had an acute interest in snow.

Dean had founded his own garage in a suburb outside of Boston, and Cas essentially ran it, putting his major in business to good use.

“What are you looking at?” He asked a small lamp on his nightstand. “What am I doing?” He asked himself.

He sat down on his side of the bed, and began to flick the aforementioned lamp's bulb into and out of illumination.

After deciding that the lamp did, in fact, work, he laid down and brought his hands up to rub his face, mindful of his suit jacket wrinkling. 

Cas should be home any minute. 

There wasn't any running.

Not that Dean wasn't sure he loved Cas, or that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, that was the easy part.

The hard part, however, was getting the love of his life to agree.

It shouldn't be difficult, really, they loved each other. Of that much, Dean was sure.

There's a certain element of nervousness that's required of the event, if you're doing it right.

Dean's ears perked up when he heard the sound of a key inside of their front door's lock.

He quickly sat up and stumbled off the bed, seeing spots in his eyes. Whether that was out of nervousness, or the fact that he hadn't eaten all day, he wasn't sure.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.” Cas gave Dean a once-over, taking in his appearance. He suddenly felt very underdressed in his t-shirt and jeans, although he didn't know the occasion. “Did somebody die?”

“What? No, Cas. Nobody died.”

“Good, because it'd probably be disrespectful to look so hot at someone's funeral.”

“That's a strange pick-up line.”

“What happened?” Cas asked.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. “Well, nothing yet.”

“What does that mean?”

“God damn it, just be a little patient, will you?” Dean put his arm on Cas' shoulder and hugged the man in front of him.

Dean pulled back to see the boy, now turned man he'd fallen in love with in high school, admiration still as apparent in his eyes as the day they'd met. Dean knew he was making the right decision.

Without further ado, Dean got down on one knee.

“Dean--” Cas looked down in wonder.

“I want to be with you forever,” Dean said, “or at least, for a long, long time. I want to bitch about arthritis pains with you.” Dean laughed. “Think about it, we'll fit right in with the crotchety old Jewish women while we talk about the 'good ol' days'. I want to watch crappy romantic comedies with you and pretend I don't like it when, really, I'm getting ideas on what to do for you.” Dean took Cas' hand. “I love to hold your hand, but I wish there was a bit more weight to it, which prompts me to ask: Will you marry me?” Dean opened the box to reveal a simple golden ring.

Cas stood there, speechless for a bit. “Jesus, Dean,” he laughed. “Why is it that every one of your romantic gestures ends with you on your knees?”

“In more ways than one, I hope.”

“One step at a time, Winchester.”

Dean once again brought the opened box to Cas' attention.

“Well?”

“Well?” Cas mimicked.

“What, do you want me to say it again?”

“Very much so. Yes.”

Dean sighed. “Do you want the whole spiel, or are we good with the cliffnotes?”

“Whatever makes you happier.”

“Well then, Castiel, will you marry me?”

Cas hugged him. The kind of hug you only get maybe once, or twice in your life. Not only one that says 'I'm here', but one that says 'I'm here, always'.

“So, is that a yes?” Dean laughed, a tear falling down his cheek.

“Yes.” Cas nodded his head and Dean started to put the ring on his finger. “Wait.” 

Cas watched Dean's face visibly fall. Etched with fear, he stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?” Dean practically whispered.

“Look at the inside of the ring.”

Dean did, trying to breath as deeply as possible.

There, in beautiful cursive letters, read 'Forever Your Angel'.

“What?” Was all Dean could manage.

“Did you know that most jewlers can do same-day inscriptions?” Cas waited a minute for the question to set in. “I, for one, did not.” 

Dean smiled.

“Now put that thing on me.”

Dean obliged. He then put Cas' hand in between both of his. It felt perfect.

“How did you--”

“Better I found it than you ran it through the wash, right? Dean Winchester, you must be more protective of your valuables.”

“That's why I asked you to marry me.”

Dean stood up to meet Cas at eye-level. Before long, he was enveloped in a delicious kiss. Cas' arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. 

“I love you.” Cas breathed onto Dean's lips.

“I love you too.”

When Gabriel cried at the wedding, Dean found it funny. When Sam cried at the wedding, Dean found it embarrassing. When Cas cried at the wedding, Dean cried with him.


	2. Macy's Day Parade

The seat was a fading yellow color. The complementary blanket was a fleecy brown. The barf bag was almost as pale as his face.

"We haven't even taken off yet, Dean."

"What?" He stopped focusing on his rapidly bouncing knee to listen to his husband.

"It's not a long ride. We'll be back on the ground before you know it."

Cas was right, of course, Illinois wasn't a long flight from Massachusetts. Dean briefly forgot himself in the face of what they were about to do. They'd only seen pictures before, but he knew it'd be nothing like the real thing.

The plane's wheels began to lurch forward and Dean made a noise he'll never admit to making. Cas immediately took his hand.

"Hey, hey. Shh."

"Are you shushing me? I'm not a horse."

"Shh," Cas continued.

The plane took position on the runway and Dean squeezed the hand within his.

"Oh, God," Dean held his hand tighter.

"It's okay." Cas rubbed his thumb along Dean's, "it's going to be okay."

"Those sound like pretty common last words to me."

"Just think of where we're going, hmm? Does that help?"

"Is 'yes' the right answer?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

"Then 'yes'."

"There you go." The plane sped up and Dean lurched backwards. Cas raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed Dean's knuckle.

The plane just kept going. Every time Dean thought it couldn't get any faster, it did. And when he considered jumping out the nearest emergency exit, the plane took to the air.

He whimpered.

He actually whimpered.

Cas put his hand to Dean's chin and gently lifted him to eye-level.

"Are you with me?" Cas asked.

Dean nodded. Upon looking to Cas, he quickly noticed the window behind him. He couldn't stop staring out of it.

Eventually Cas caught on.

"Would you like me to put the shade over the window, Dean?"

"No," Dean said, before he could fully understand it.

Cas looked visibly surprised, but didn't question him any further.

It was amazing, viewing the sky like this. This was closer than passed generations could even imagine being. Being fully submerged in a cloud isn't even something that should be humanly possible. And, yet, we've managed to transcend that boundary, like so many others. Humanity may be flawed and broken, but, the more we grow, the closer we can get to that beauty. And the more we take that ability for granted.

Dean would have had an easier time grasping this existentialism had he not been trying so hard to keep his gag reflex under control.

Dean saw Cas smile out of the corner of his eye. Cas' smile always managed to calm him down.

"What?"

"I just can't believe this is finally happening," Cas said, fondly.

Dean returned his smile, "I know what you mean," he said.

"Passengers," a monotone voice came from the intercom. "We are cruising at about... uh... 30,000 feet, and the 'fasten seat-belt' light is off. You are now... uh... free to move about the cabin. Drinks will be offered soon. Have a... uh... good flight."

"We survived take-off," Cas offered.

"We still gotta land," Dean reminded.

Cas let go of his hand and patted his knee. "I think you've earned a little reward. Don't you?"

"What are we, Cas, gonna join the mile-high club?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"First of all: that wasn't what I had in mind. Second: certainly not with that attitude." Cas reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He carefully retrieved the picture from inside. "Better?" He asked, handing the photo to Dean.

Dean couldn't help the grin that washed over his face at the sight, "yeah, better."

Cas kissed his cheek, and rested his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Wake me up if you want me, okay?"

"I always want you."

"And I always want sleep," he began. "Figure out which desire is more pressing at the time, and act accordingly." He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes.

An hour passed in a daze. Cas' steady breathing and the soft pink of the picture proved very helpful in working to ease Dean's nerves.

That is, until the plane shook.

It was just a bit of turbulence, really. Nothing to be too scared of.

Well, if you weren't Dean.

"Cas, Cas. Wake up. Cas!" Dean called, frantically. Shaking his husband.

"What? What?! I'm- I'm up." Cas quickly rubbed his eyes.

"The plane's..." It bobbed up as if to prove his point.

They heard a tone come from the intercom followed by a steady, "We've... uh... ran into some clouds, it... uh... should go away in about... uh... five minutes."

"Jesus, does he have a speech impediment or something?" Dean asked, gripping the armrests.

"Where's the picture?"

Dean reached it out of his back pocket, the motion making him nauseous, "here."

"Look at that," Cas said. "What do you think she'll be wearing when we see her?"

"What?"

"Well here," he said, pointing to the pink footsie pajamas, "she's wearing pajamas. What do you think she'll look like when we get there?"

Dean looked up to him and stayed silent for a bit. Cas waited for him.

"I picture her wearing a dress."

"A dress?"

"A sundress, I think. A white one."

"That sounds nice."

"It is. It's beautiful," the plane lurched forward. "Oh god." Cas took his hand.

"What's she doing, Dean? What is she doing when you picture her?"

"She's just waking up. And I hold her, and she starts to giggle." Cas laced their fingers together.

"That sounds wonderful."

"It's not done," he says. "Then she sees you," Dean smiled in a way that suggested he wasn't aware of it. "And she reaches her arms out, and she smiles so wide. Wider than I thought anyone could. And I hand her to you, and you kiss her forehead, and it's just the most wonderful thing I've ever seen." Dean looked up to see Cas with his eyes closed and a look of pure rapture on his face. "Cas?"

"Hmm?" He hums, without opening his eyes.

"What do you picture?"

"I think I'll just stick with yours, if that's alright," he inhaled. "I love it."

"Me too." Dean said, and wrapped his arm around Cas.

Another two dings.

"It appears that we have passed through the turbulence. It should be smooth flying from here on out. Thank you for your patience."

Cas nuzzled into Dean's neck.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

…

"Please refrain from moving about the cabin until we have come to a complete stop. We hope you have enjoyed your flight and, behalf of us all, we welcome you to Chicago, Illinois."

Aurora, Illinois was hardly a forty five minute drive from the airport, Dean found. Although he was convinced it wouldn't have taken ten minutes with the Impala. A rented Subaru really wasn't his style.

The hotel they were staying at was one of a huge chain. The bed wasn't too comfortable, but Dean doubted he'd be getting much sleep tonight. Not when he knew what was waiting for them.

Not when he knew she was waiting for them.

He smiled at the thought. Still, something so simple, and, still, something so beautiful.

They lied there for a few hours, in the dark. They held each other and said all they needed to, without words. After Cas' breathing seemed to even out, Dean got into a subtle rhythm himself and finally dozed off.

…

That morning he was, in a manner that was certainly familiar to him, awoken by a loud beeping sound. A quick wave of terror hit him upon remembering the day's itinerary.

Cas groaned in annoyance. Neither of the two had ever been morning people, preferring to wake up in the mid-afternoon if at all possible, but, today, their difficulty was minimal.

After his groan subsided, Cas turned Dean around to meet him and started kissing him feverishly. While Dean didn't quite understand the cause (or the effect, for that matter) of said action, he was not about to argue.

Cas pulled away from his lips and began to giggle. More of a nervous laugh than anything. Soon, that giggle had another one joining it. Dean laughed right alongside him. They began to laugh so hard that their sides hurt, and their breaths caught in their throats. After calming down, Dean pulled Cas into a tight hug that they didn't release until that alarm went off again.

…

They were lead into an off-white room by a woman named Linda. The crib was yellow. Dean peered in, and that was it, the first time he saw her.

She'd been born on Thanksgiving, and her mother had been upset about missing the parade in favor of giving birth to her child. The story lead into her name: Macy.

And she was beautiful.

Her eyes were shut, a pink band around her head. It had a flower on its top. She wore blue footsie pajamas, similar to the ones they'd seen in the picture. She had short, dark brown hair. It was curled, almost bringing to mind Shirley Temple, but it was messier- Easier.

"I didn't have the heart to wake her," Linda said, in answer.

"Can I hold her?" Cas said, seeming to ignore her words.

"Sure- Of course. Just be careful."

Cas eased his arms into her bed and felt her hair through his hands. "Hi, sweetie," he smiled, briefly, and slowly, gently, picked her up. She stirred a bit, and he shushed her. He moved her to his shoulder and began to rock her up and down. "Hi," he said again, and kissed her forehead.

Dean found himself incapable of speech. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn't. He could only watch. He watched as his husband whispered inaudible words to his daughter, their daughter, as tears filled his eyes, he watched.

She turned to Dean, then, just a slight tilt of her head in his direction, and opened her eyes. A deep shade of blue overtook him.

He could fall in love with those eyes.

Hell, he'd done it once before.

Dean laughed. A weak, shy sound, foreign to his vocal chords.

Cas looked at him, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"I think I'll picture this from now on," Dean said. "This would be perfect."

"I couldn't agree more," Cas answered.

Macy was two years, three weeks, and four days old when she first met her dads.

Macy was two years, three weeks, and five days old when she went on her first plane ride.

Macy was two years, three weeks, and six days old when she first came home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, simply request if you'd like a one-shot written in this 'verse. Thank you all so much, you professional awesomers!


	3. A Halloween Spent With Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I posted this about a month ago on fanfiction.net, and now I'm posting it here... It's a Halloween story... oh god I'm so late with this, I'm sorry.
> 
> Real quick, “May” is supposed to be a nickname, it's not a typo. Well, now that, that's out of the way, enjoy! Feel free to request any other one-shots you'd like!

“C'mon, Papa! They'll be here soon!” Macy called into the stairway, her floppy white wings bouncing behind her. 

Cas walked to the kitchen, sorting a bowl of candy together. “What is it, May?” 

“Papa's taking forever!” She drawled, a slight lisp worming its way into her words.

“He's probably busy getting ready,” he looked at her, taking in the white of her dress and the feathers on her halo. 

“But I got ready like that,” she said, attempting to snap her fingers. It was true, even with help, she put on the somewhat elaborate costume awfully fast for a six-year-old. 

“Really, like that?” Cas responded, loudly snapping his fingers for the full effect.

“Yeah!” Macy laughed.

“Well, what can I say? Some people have an easier time looking pretty than others. I guess your Papa has to try harder than you.”

“I am very pretty, thank you.” Dean said, appearing in the doorway. 

“Papa!” She cried, running to him. Dean lifted her to his shoulder.

“You are getting too big, baby girl,” he groaned.

“Can I have some candy?” She asked, pouting.

“What are you, trying to prove my point?” He joked, “of course you can. But don't go crazy, okay? You're still going to bed at nine thirty tonight.”

“But, Papa!” She whined.

“But, Macy!” He returned, and put her down. She went to the table by the front door to grab a piece of candy.

He turned to Cas, who was trying, and failing, to hide a smile from his face.

“What?”

“You look...” He started. 

Dean looked down at himself, self-conscious. Perhaps he did look a bit silly. He wore a flannel shirt with a brown vest over it, and a belt bigger than the whole of Texas. He'd broken out a pair of jeans he hadn't worn since Cas was in college, and topped it off with a disproportionately big cowboy hat sitting on his head. “Does it fit?” He asked.

“Oh yeah,” Cas said, maybe too quickly.

Dean raised his eyebrow. “Is that right?” 

“Daddy, Papa! They're here!” 

Dean smiled at him and they both walked to the front door. Car lights shined bright in their driveway and gleamed into a side window.

Without further prompting, Dean ran to the door and swung it open. It slowly opened to reveal a pair of giant antlers unfolding a stroller. Then, he thought, maybe it wasn't the antlers that were giant, but the person wearing them.

“Sammy!” Dean yelled, exiting the house.

“Hey!” He replied, and pulled his brother into a hug.

Dean heard another door open, then, and Jess, Sam's wife, stood from the car. She wore a classic nurse's outfit. Jess reached into the backseat and took a pumpkin-dressed Andy from his booster seat. 

“Hiya, guys,” Jess said, walking around the car to meet them.

Cas and Macy left the house, and she soon started to sprint toward Sam and Jess.

“Uncle Sam!” She cried, reaching to him to be picked up. It was either that, or she'd hug his knees.

“Hey, princess. How's it going?”

“Good,” Dean interjected.

“That's so nice to hear, princess.”

“I'm glad, moose.”

“Okay,” Cas said, getting in between them. “sibling rivalry aside, can I get you anything before we go?”

“Well, you can answer a question for me,” Jess said.

“Alright.”

“Why aren't you wearing a costume?!”

Cas sighed, “I reject the notion of taking twisted pleasure in one's own fears, and, instead, prefer to take simple pleasure in that which makes me undeniably happy.”

“What he's really saying,” Dean explained, “is that he's scared, and there's a Friends marathon on TV.” 

“But it sounds so much nicer how I said it,” Cas said.

“No one's arguing with you there.” Dean replied.

“But, Uncle Cas!” a four-year-old Andy called from his mother's arms, “you have to go trick-or-treating!”

“Why is that, Buddy?”

“Uh... um... because...” He stuttered. “Daddy knows why! Tell him, Daddy!”

Sam put Macy down who promptly ran over to Cas, “Because, if you don't go, your cowboy might find another horse out there to ride.” 

“Hey, hey, Cas is the one horse I ride.” Dean smirked as Cas started coughing profusely, trying to hide his embarrassment. 

“Seriously? Seriously?!” Sam said, one-part happy and two-parts disgusted.

“If it gets scary, Daddy, I'll protect you.” Macy said, looking up to her father.

“If nothing else, Cas, you'd better come along as an innuendo blockade.” Jess smiled.

“I promise nothing more than a semi-permeable membrane,” Cas responded.

“Deal,” Jess shook his hand. 

“Yay!” Both Macy and Andy celebrated simultaneously. 

…

Although Cas' change of heart benefited all of their spirits, it did not benefit their goal of leaving on time. After he and Dean threw together a costume, Cas set their television to record the episodes of Friends he was, inevitably, going to miss. Although they had the entire box-set of the series in their home, Cas was still upset.

“But, Dean! It's the one where Monica and Chandler get married!”

“Yeah, and it's the one where we take our daughter and our nephew trick-or-treating. C'mon.”

“But--”

“You can't DVR life, Cas.”

He had him there.

So when Cas came downstairs as a mummy (and Dean put “toilet paper” on the shopping list), he was surprised to see both Macy and Andy asleep on either side of Sam while Jess stared intently at the TV.

“It was Rachel?!” Jess yelled, and Sam shushed her. 

“Guys, what's going on?” Dean asked.

“They fell asleep about a half an hour ago.” Sam answered, Jess still watching the credits scroll by.

“How long were we up there?” Cas wondered aloud.

“Long enough for her to do some serious catching up on TV,” Sam pointed to Jess.

Dean didn't think they'd been gone for too long. Perhaps he and Dean had gotten a bit carried away with each other, and, of course, there was the five minutes where Dean paced back and forth in their closet declaring “I'm in the closet!” and “I'm coming out of the closet!” invariably. Which he eventually silenced by kissing him. Maybe that's where time they lost track of time.

Macy stirred, “Uncle Sam?” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, Sweetie?”

“I don't feel like going trick-or-treating anymore.”

“I don't think you're alone there,” Dean said. “Who votes for a night in?”

A myriad of “me”'s carried on throughout the room. Even a half-awake Andy gave a feeble “yep” from below Sam's arm. 

And that's how the Winchesters spent their Halloween with family and Friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, that pun hurt me.
> 
> So mayyyyyybe I made Cas a comedy nerd in this story. Mayyyyybe that's a bit out of character. Mayyyybe you should just shush your mouth and enjoy the fluff. Hey, write what you know. You know?
> 
> As always, if you'd like any one-shot written in this 'verse, just let me know (via comment, message, or whatever else), and I'll see if I can get it done! Hopefully I can get it done in an actually reasonable timeframe... Sorry about that... I probably should've just scrapped this and just written a Thanksgiving thing, but knowing me that wouldn't get done until mid March. So... happy Halloween!
> 
> Oh, and a moment of silence for this bit of deleted dialogue from this fluffy disaster:
> 
> “Hey, Cas?”
> 
> “Yeah, Dean?”
> 
> “'How you doin'?'”
> 
> Yeah, I think that was better off deleted. Sorry to any of you who don't watch Friends, I may have kinda ostracized you. Woopsies.
> 
> Damn I want to watch Friends right now.
> 
> But seriously, I made a pact with myself to write something every day for a week, and I'm running on no inspiration. So a one-shot prompt would be so welcomed, you have no idea.


	4. Make 'Em Laugh, Or Make 'Em Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe makes a reappearance and I get to make all the jokes I want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm so this is short, and it's weird, and it's not exactly what the prompt was asking for, but... it happened? So, here it is. For suluvmanga who requested: “What about a family vacation? Maybe visiting Uncle Gabriel? I'd love to hear about that!” To which I say... I tried... kinda.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was from the depths of an Arizona sewer that Gabe realized how little he knew about child-care.

 

Perhaps this realization would have been better timed at a point when he wasn't, literally _knee deep in it_ , but, hey, nothing's perfect.

 

Gabriel had, had a high number of odd jobs in his life, but being a sewer-inspector was certainly not his least favorite of them. The job itself was as much a goldmine for jokes as it was a shitstorm for, well... shit.

 

He rolled back his jacket to check the slim bit of wrist between his uniform and his gloves. According to the watch there, it was 4:03. Dean and Cas were supposed to arrive at his house three minutes ago.

 

Perfect. He had just enough time to pick up a Barbie.

 

“Gotta go, Bill!” He called out to Tom across the sewer.

 

“Okay,” Tom said, his face the definition of resignation.

 

He ran as fast as he could (which, admittedly, wasn't particularly speedy) to the ladder and quickly proceeded to climb it.

 

The assaulting brightness of the sun was combatted only by the smell of something that didn't make him want to add to something of his own to the underground filth. Gabe thought it was called something like “oxygen”.

 

He quickly stripped out of his ever-soiled uniform and tossed it on the burning pavement. Oh well, this neighborhood was rich enough to hire someone to clean it up a thousand times over.

 

It was half-way into his ride to Toys R Us that he realized the staff may not be too welcoming to a middle-aged, half-naked, man smelling of feces. _Welp_ , he thought _, better stop at Kohl's first._

 

So, there he was, with nothing but blue-striped boxers and a wife-beater covering his shame, perusing the graphic tees. He had $20 on him, so he grabbed a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt that he didn't see before it was too late.

 

Gray, and, presumably unassuming on the back, on the front was a large, inescapable picture of Hello Kitty.

 

_What grown-ass man would want a Hello Kitty shirt?_

 

_The same grown-ass man who almost walked partially nude into a toy store._

 

_It was only partially nude._

 

_That is still far too much nude given the location._

 

At least the pants didn't say “PINK” on the back.

 

Well, it was too late to go back, now, anyways.

 

He quickly rang up his clothes at the counter, shoved the Kohl's Cash the cashier offered him into her register, and sprinted out the door. He darted to his car and put his new clothes on as he went. The pants were at least two sizes too small, but the shirt fit perfectly.

 

Finally, he was done. Now it was time for the main, event: Toys R Us: Where Kids Are Made.

 

On second thought, that probably wasn't their slogan.

 

The pants felt like boa constrictors around his legs; like denim-feeling, ass-wrapping, boa constrictors. He found it difficult to walk the length from the parking lot to the super-store. He found it so difficult, in fact, that he did not look both ways. And, as many of the toys in Toys R Us would tell you, you should _always_ look both ways. Because, otherwise, you may get hit by a car.

 

But in Gabriel's case, it was really more of a love-tap. It was enough of a tap, however, to leave him sitting down, cross-legged, on the ground.

 

In any case, he heard the sound of a car door opening, and a young girl's small sneakers hitting the pavement.

 

“Uncle Gabe!”

 

Gabriel looked up to see his niece. Confused, but, at this point, fairly unsurprised, he arose from his uncomfortable seating.

 

“Hiya, little girl!” Gabe said, picking her up. Macy giggled.

 

“Why did you run into the car?” She asked.

 

“Why did the car run into me?” Gabe countered.

 

She stared at him in wonder. After a moment, she seemed to give up all hope of comprehending their exchange and called out, “Daddy! Papa!”

 

But Cas was already out of the car, checking on them both.

 

“Gabe! Gabe, what are-- are you okay?!”

 

“Yeah, bro, I'm good,” Gabe offered.

 

“What just happened?” Cas asked.

 

“Before or after you hit me with your car?”

 

“Whichever would be more convenient for you,” Cas answered, still somewhat frenzied.

 

“Where's your man-candy?” Gabe wondered aloud, seemingly completely ignoring Cas' inquiry.

 

That's when Gabe looked over into the passenger's seat of their newest-model Prius to see Dean doubled over laughing, but, at this point, he looked a bit closer to puking than anything else.

 

Gabe walked to Dean's side of the car and knocked on the window, leaving Cas and Macy alone. “Can I help you with something?” He asked through the closed window.

 

Dean kept laughing.

 

Gabe knocked harder.

 

“ _Can I help you?_ ” He practically yelled. Finally, Dean rolled down his window.

 

“We just hit you with our fucking car!” He laughed, “it's a goddamn Prius, and you just got hit by it!” He managed, through uncontrollable laughs.

 

“At least I'm not the one who owns said 'goddamn Prius'.”

 

“No,” Dean said, getting control over his breathing, and leaning against the inside of the door, “you just get hit by them.”

 

Gabriel opened the door, then, nearly causing Dean to fall onto the pavement as he had. 'Almost' being the operative word.

 

Dean got out of the car, then, a bit red in the face, and joined Cas, who had just stopped covering Macy's ears from whatever conversation Dean and Gabe were surely having.

 

“Why are you here?” Gabe asked at the same time that Dean asked, “Why are you wearing a Hello Kitty shirt?!”

 

“Why I wear what I wear is none of your concern,” Gabe explained, and Macy seemed content with his answer if her wide grin was anything to go by. “Now why are you here?”

 

“Well we didn't exactly expect for you to show up on time, Gabriel,” Cas explained. “Not to mention that it was a long plane ride, and we promised May a toy once we arrived.”

 

“Dean hates flying. Shouldn't he get something too?” Gabe wondered.

 

Cas covered Macy's ears for the inevitable: “I'm getting mine tonight.” that came out of his husband's mouth.

 

“TMI, bro-in-law, TMI.”

 

“But why are you here, Gabe?” Cas asked him, referring to the toy store.

 

“Figured I'd make my house a bit more 'kid-friendly' before you guys showed up.”

 

“And instead you got hit by a car,” Cas interrupted.

 

“ _Our_ car, Cas, he got hit by _our_ car,” Dean laughed again.

 

“Are we gonna buy this little twerp some toys, or what?” Gabe asked, annoyed.

 

“Yeah we are!” Macy called.

 

Macy ran up to her Uncle Gabe as they walked through the aisles of the enormous store, and Dean and Cas held hands without worry, seeing as Arizona's overwhelmingly asshole-ish and ridiculous laws regarding homosexuality had been terminated years ago. Laws that promoted the spread of shit so terrible it was worse than that of any sewer system, and Gabe would know.

 

And if Dean or Cas noticed the enormous rip in the back of Gabe's pants from when he fell on the pavement, they said nothing.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for Miriam getting in some social commentary even though this is supposed to take place in the future. How far in the future? Meh, I don't feel like doing math. Speaking of which, I'm gonna go watch Breaking Bad. Have a great day, y'all! And feel free to request any one-shots you'd like! No guarantees it'll turn out more coherent than this.


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